Alright, I think the chapters arecorrected and all there now. I can't believe they got that messed up! Anyway, it seems chapter 3 might have been missing or I copied over it or something, but I think it's all correct now. We'll see.


Tony was in the chair with the straps holding him down and the IVs dripping into his hand. He shivered as the cold of the chair pressed into his flesh. The thin t-shirt he'd been left in did nothing to trap his body heat and the more dehydrated he became the less ability he had to fight the cold.

Despite knowing it was probably useless, Tony struggled against the straps. Just because the creeps that had him might have the upper hand for the moment, didn't mean he was going to just roll over and let them do whatever they wanted.

DiNozzo's first rule, when he had a team of his own – never give up without a fight.

He squinted into the bright light shining into his face. He could just make out shapes moving in the dimness beyond it. They were the people who were his captors, they were there in the shadows. He squinted trying to make out details.

"I won't tell you anything." he shouted at them defiantly. "Do whatever you want to me, but you won't get anything from me!"

"That is where you are wrong, Special Agent DiNozzo, we will get exactly what we need from you," a voice answered from the shadows. The voice was cool and calm, heavily laced with a Middle Eastern accent.

Tony felt a thrill of triumph. Not only did he now have a clue as to the identity of his captors, he'd gotten them to acknowledge him. It was a tiny crack in their policy of non-communication. It might not be the whole enchilada, but it was something. He'd come up with whole plans from less.

He tugged at the restraints on his wrists. They were starting to hurt from the abuse, angry and red from the constant pressure.

The stuff that was dripping into his veins was making him tingle, like the pins and needles you got when a limb fell asleep. Only this was all over his body. And the shivering had stopped. The room was getting warmer? Tony highly doubted that the bad guys would warm the room for his comfort; he suspected it was something else to do with the IV.

"You know you've taken the wrong guy," Tony called, trying to think of anything to keep them talking, anything to keep them from doing whatever it was they were going to do.

He just had to give Gibbs time. Gibbs counted on him to take care of himself and still be in one piece when he arrived. Of course Tony had no intention of waiting around for Gibbs to show up and rescue him. He wasn't someone who waited around to be rescued.

"I don't know anything. Ask anyone, they'll tell you, 'DiNozzo knows absolutely nothing useful.' Now if you want to know which episode it was that Magnum finds out that his wife Michelle was really alive, now that I can tell you. See he thought she'd died in Vietnam, only it turns out that she survived..." being annoying was a skill that Tony cultivated. People weren't as guarded with someone they considered a fool. He was willing to use that in this case if it helped in any way.

But the bad guys just weren't getting with the plan.

"Shut up, Agent DiNozzo," the voice snapped.

"That would be Special Agent DiNozzo to you. I don't think we know each other well enough to skip the formalities."

The flush was spreading through his body, warming to his toes. That was kind of nice. He'd been tired of the whole shivering thing. The harsh glow of the light on him was changing, too. It was softer and he almost imagined he could hear the light speak to him.

Funny, he never knew that light would have Gibbs voice.

"Hang on, DiNozzo," the light said sternly.

No problem there. Anthony DiNozzo was an expert on hanging on.

"So, I'm sorry, but you're just going to be disappointed in me. Just ask my father, he'll tell you what a disappointment I am." His speech was beginning to slur. He hoped the bad guys could understand him.

"Trust me, Agent DiNozzo," the voice answered. "You will not disappoint us. You were very carefully chosen for this task. I believe he is ready."

Ready? Tony tried to brace himself for whatever was coming next. He'd studied interrogation techniques. He had seen first hand the ugly things that people could do to each other. He had a whole list of things to be ready for. His heart was beating faster and he tried the restraints again, just in case.

Tony was anything but ready for the fear that slammed into him. Total, completely overwhelming fear. Fear that his team was in trouble, that they needed him. He was the only one that could save them. He had to get out of the chair. He had to help them.

A figure walked out of the darkness and stood watching him.

"Are you ready to begin, Agent DiNozzo?" the man asked.


The hospital cafeteria was filled with people starting their day, hospital staff and patients and their visitors alike. The place was noisy with the din of plates clinking and forks scraping, everyone caught up in their own dramas. None of them knew or cared about the NCIS agent in the bed upstairs struggling to survive, it wasn't necessary. It was Gibbs' job and he was going to make sure Tony recovered, if he had to threaten him to make it happen.

Gibbs sat at a corner table with Abby and McGee. He drank his coffee as they talked. He couldn't help it; he automatically found the egress points, his eye assessing everyone in the room for their level of threat. For the most part it was just ordinary people getting their day started, although he was concerned with some of the orderlies that drifted through. There was just something... off about them.

Under cover of sipping his coffee, he also assessed McGee's condition. The young agent's color was returning, his eyes bright and sparkling as he talked with Abby. The doctor had assured Gibbs he would be fine, but it was good to see it for himself.

"And so you just cut the wire?" Abby asked wide-eyed, her awe obvious. Leaning into him, she had one hand on McGee's arm, assuring herself tactilely that he was really alive and well and sitting in front of her.

McGee blushed shyly at being the object of her rapt attention, but he continued, "I did. The last thing I remember was flying through the air."

"Was it cool?" she asked eagerly. "What did it feel like?"

Abby's scientific curiosity was insatiable, but it worried Gibbs sometimes the things she was interested in. He decided it was time to come to McGee's rescue.

"Abby, I want you to go back to your lab," he set his cup down. "There was a team working all night at the warehouse and I've requested that all the evidence be sent to you."

"But Gibbs," she protested, her voice rising in that way it did when she was really passionate about something. "Everybody else is here, and I haven't even seen Tony yet."

He was firm, "Abby, I want our best people working on this. Trust me, Tony is going to be here for a few days. You can visit him in your candy striper thing later."

McGee's mouth dropped open.

"The rest of us will be in the office soon," he told her soothingly. He knew how much she wanted to see Tony, see for herself that he was alive and well, but they had work to do. "I want the people responsible for this." He reached across the table and gently closed McGee's mouth.

Overhead, the announcement of a code-blue caught their attention. He recognized the room number immediately as Tony's. He was on his feet and through the door before Abby and McGee could even react.

He took the stairs two at a time and met the medical team coming from the other direction. Kate had been pushed out of the room. She stood at the door devastated, staring at Tony's body blankly. He could hear the flat tone on the monitor that declared to all that Tony's heart had stopped.

"We were just talking, Gibbs," she looked up at him, pleading with him to make it alright.

He wished he could. He wished it were as easy as going in that room and hitting Tony on the head and making the world right again. But if Tony was dead, then nothing would ever be right again.

He took her arm and drew her into the hall, out of the way, so that the team could do their work.

They set up efficiently around Tony's body. From where he was standing, it was lifeless and still. There was no more Tony in the body and Gibbs felt that kick in his gut that told him someone close to him was dead.

He was distantly aware when McGee and Abby joined them, both breathless from the run from the cafeteria.

"Tony?" McGee asked.

Gibbs just shrugged.

They stood, helpless, unable to do anything but watch as the team inside fought to bring Tony back.

The seconds stretched into minutes with the line remaining obstinately flat. No one spoke, they barely breathed as the doctor used the paddles to try and shock Tony. His body arched on the bed, once, twice, three times.

And still the damnable line stayed flat, the tone steady and even. Kate and Gibbs stood apart, not touching, separate in their grief. McGee had his arms around Abby and she moaned every time the doctor activated the paddles and still Tony didn't respond.

To their credit, the team in Tony's room never quit. They didn't like loosing patients. It was their job, but on the personal side they never gave up on a patient until they had to. They refused to give any more to death than they had to

But time wasn't on their side, they had a definite window during which they could successfully bring their patient back and that window was quickly shutting.

A nurse worked steadily squeezing the bag that would keep the oxygen going in and out of the man's lungs. Another did CPR between the attempts with the paddles, making the blood flow.

Gibbs watched them work, knowing that as each second went by Tony's chances were getting worse and worse.

"Come on, DiNozzo," he muttered under his breath. "Don't let the bastards win."

Once more the doctor applied the paddles to Tony's chest. "Clear."

Tony's body jumped on the bed. There was a pause, the space of a heartbeat and the monitor jumped.

Everyone waited holding their breath and the monitor jumped again and beeped. Then it steadied into a rhythm.

"Good work, people," the doctor said as grins broke out.

Tony stirred in the bed, turning his head restlessly. His eyes opened. Gibbs saw him take in the room with a puzzled frown. Then his gaze found Gibbs. For a heartbeat, their eyes were locked, and Gibbs saw the fear there, the terror. Then his eyes slid shut and Tony was unconscious once again.

The team stayed at the door, quietly watching as the medical personnel got Tony settled once again. They had come so close to loosing him, it was hard to know they were going to have to leave soon. They had work that wouldn't wait while they were sitting at Tony's side. They had to catch the people who had hurt him, before they could do anything worse. So they took the quiet moment to just watch him breath, listen to the steady rhythm of the heart monitor.

The medical team did their work quickly. It was obvious that they cared for their patient, taking great care to make sure that all the lines and leads were still attached properly and that Tony was comfortable in the bed. Tucking the covers in around him, the nurses left as soon as everything was done, leaving the doctor for a final check of his patient.

"Doc," Gibbs stepped forward once it was obvious that the doctor was finished. "What can you tell us about Tony's condition?"

The doctor put Tony's chart back in place. He turned and looked over the individuals waiting anxiously.

"Are you Mr. DiNozzo's family?" he asked with an upraised brow.

They were a motley group Gibbs knew. Kate stood at the foot of Tony's bed. She was rumpled from sitting up all night with Tony and McGee. Abby and McGee stood behind her. Abby was dressed in her usual Goth attire complete with a studded dog collar. McGee… well he looked like McGee, even if he was dressed in a hospital gown with a fuzzy blue bathrobe thrown over it that Abby had brought him from home.

"Yes, we're his family," he told the doctor firmly challenging him to say otherwise.

Gibbs could see the skepticism in the doctor's eyes, but he nodded and jerked his head toward the door.

"Let's talk outside, my patient needs his rest."

They followed the doctor obediently out of the room. He led them down the hall to a small, private waiting room. He held the door open and they filed in and sat, waiting expectantly.

The doctor faced them, "I'm not going to pull any punches here, Tony's condition is very serious. His case is pretty complicated. We knew he was suffering from a concussion and a severe case of dehydration when you brought him in. Those are life threatening all on their own, and we've been aggressively treating those since his arrival."

"There's more?" Gibbs asked tersely, his eyes narrowed as he took in and processed the information the doctor was giving them.

"There is," the doctor nodded slowly. He shifted, his gaze moving from person to person, trying to impress upon them how serious his news was, "we've got his blood tests back and it seems that Tony was injected with some pretty powerful hallucinogenic drugs."

"LSD?" Kate asked in disbelief. She shifted forward on the small waiting room sofa, her eyes never leaving the doctor.

He nodded again, this time more hesitantly, "Similar, but this is some new designer stuff that makes LSD look like candy."

"To what purpose?" Gibbs asked. He had some ideas, but he needed to hear the doctor's thoughts.

"I don't know," he paused, running a hand through his hair. "I can tell you that they would cause very vivid audio and visual hallucinations that would seem very real to Tony. People under the influence of these types of drugs have spoke of being able to see sounds. He'd also be very open to suggestion." The doctor paused again and shrugged, "They might have been trying to get information from him. He wouldn't have been able to resist long with this stuff in his system."

"Tony wouldn't tell terrorists anything," Abby declared loyally.

"Abby, anyone can be broken," Gibbs told her heavily. "But Tony doesn't know anything useful. We've already changed any protocols or codes he might have given them."

"So, why would terrorists take him, boss?" McGee asked.

Glancing over at him, it occurred to Gibbs that he looked ridiculous in his fuzzy blue robe and faded brown slippers.

"To program him, McGee. Shit!" Gibbs exploded upward no longer able to sit.

"Program him?" the doctor asked bewildered.

"Brainwashing, mind control," Kate told him. "The ability to be able to control someone's thinking or behavior."

He looked from Kate to Gibbs and back again, trying to decide if they were serious. "But why?"

"There are any number of applications," Kate sounded almost as if she were discussing the weather instead of something that might possibly be applied to one of their team, "assassination and terrorism are just a couple of choices."

"Surely that's not possible," the doctor protested. "Isn't that just something you see at the movies?" he asked. Disbelief was heavy in his voice, or at least the need for it not to be true.

"Oh, no, Doc," Gibbs answered. "Our country's been experimenting with mind control techniques since the 50's. Just think what you could do if you had people in key positions primed with instructions to take out anyone from the postman to world leaders and those people didn't even know it."

The doctor's face drained of color and sat abruptly. "You're kidding right?"

"Wish I was," Gibbs said grimly. "All the handler would need to do to activate the individual agent would be to have the correct code. That agent will then do whatever they've been 'programmed' to do and may not even be actively aware of it."

"What would they have programmed Tony to do?" Kate asked. He could see that she was thinking, too, figuring what damage Tony could do, who he could get to.

"Something bad," Gibbs answered shortly.

It was time to stop standing around doing nothing, letting the terrorists get further and further ahead of them. It was time to get moving.

"But now that we know about it, we can stop it, right?" Abby asked anxiously.

"You're damn right we're going to stop it." Gibbs' thoughts were whirling with all the implications. Something must have gone wrong with the terrorist's plan because NCIS had Tony now and they were going to stop him from doing whatever he was programmed to do.

"Kate, you get back to the office and call Fornell. Find out what kind of Intel he has on the terrorists, what they might have been targeting. Abby, I want you back in your lab and start working on that debris from the warehouse. McGee…"

McGee perked up eagerly, ready to help.

"Yes, boss?"

"I want you to stay here and keep an eye on Tony. If he wakes up, see if you can get anything from him."

"Interrogate, Tony, boss?" McGee looked slightly freaked at the idea.

"No, don't interrogate him, McGee, you won't get anything from him that way."

"If he's really been programmed, he won't even be aware of it until he gets some sort of signal," Kate explained.

McGee's nervous gaze moved from Gibbs to Kate and back again.

"I… uhm… can't set him off by accident, can I?" Tim asked, swallowing nervously.

"It's not going to be anything you'd say in normal conversation, McGee," Gibbs hit him in the back of the head, lightly just in case he was still suffering any ill effects from his electrocution. "They wouldn't want him to be set off too soon. It would ruin their plan. Just talk to him, see if he says anything out of the ordinary or strange."

"This is Tony we're talking about, right?"

"McGee!" Abby punched him this time, hard.

"Hey," he complained, "I'm going to have to stay in the hospital because of the injuries I've sustained here." He rubbed his arm, scooting away from Abby on the couch.

"Come on, people," Gibbs growled impatiently, "We've got work to do."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, their mood was lighter as they walked down the hall back to Tony's room. They had Tony back; they were going to able to stop whatever the terrorist had planned. They just had to keep Tony safe until they figured out what it was he was supposed to do.

That good feeling lasted the entire length of their walk up the hall from the waiting room back to Tony's room. When they entered the room they found it empty. The bed was empty with crumpled sheets and the IV lines lying neatly on top of the covers, the machinery was turned off.

Gibbs stopped in horrified astonishment, "Where in the hell did DiNozzo go? I can't take my eyes off him for five minutes."

"Maybe they took him for more tests, boss?" McGee suggested hesitantly.

It was possible, Gibbs knew. But he didn't think so.

"Somebody get that doctor and get him back now. And just in case, spread out and look for DiNozzo. He's not going to get far in the hospital gown with his ass hanging out." They all scattered as Gibbs pulled out his cell phone and dialed.


Tony drove carefully through the mid-morning DC rush-hour traffic: he kept both hands on the steering wheel, he observed all traffic signals, kept to the speed limit, and used his turn signals for all turns. It just wouldn't do to be pulled over at this point.

He didn't think he'd be successful in convincing the local Leos that he was on official NCIS business dressed in stolen hospital scrubs and sporting a bandage that covered most of his head. Eyeing his reflection in the rear view mirror, he thought he actually looked like a refuge from a war zone.

What he could see of his face was an interesting shade of purple from where it had impacted with his coffee table 3 days ago. Where it wasn't covered in bandage or a mottled purple, his face was an entirely too-pale a shade of white and stretched too tightly over the bones, he'd seen bodies on Ducky's table that were in better shape.

He had urgent business, and it wouldn't fit in his plans to be hauled back to the hospital just yet. He was thankful to know that his team was back there, that they were safe. He didn't have to close his eyes to see the scenes of complete and utter devastation that kept playing in the cinema of his mind. Scenes of such depravity that it made him queasy.

Sitting at the stoplight, waiting for the light to change, he closed his eyes and forced down the nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. It wouldn't do to be sick. He didn't have time for one. And he knew how the maintenance guys were about the NCIS vehicles. They would give him no amount of hell for throwing up in the car.

Closing his eyes was a mistake, he'd been keeping the images under control, but now they swept over him, overwhelming in their intensity – Kate, bleeding, with her hand reaching out to him for help. McGee lying over his desk; dead eyes staring at the ceiling, the pool of blood on the floor growing ever larger. Abby and Gibbs and Ducky, the sheer savagery of what was done to them left him breathless and shaking.

Someone behind him honked when the light changed, jerking him back to awareness. He was surprised to see the bright morning sunshine. He'd expected a blackened landscape and a sickly sun shining over it all. He eased out into the traffic, keeping an eye out for cops or anything else that might impede his progress.


It didn't take long to determine that Tony was no longer in the hospital. Within minutes the team met back in Tony's room.

"Tony wasn't scheduled for any tests this morning," the doctor told them with a frown.

"How in the hell did he even get out of bed?" Kate asked anxiously, a hint of reprimand in her voice.

The doctor replied defensively, "The drugs that Tony was given are very powerful. People have done some pretty amazing things while under their influence."

"Wasn't he sedated?" Gibbs interrupted with a scowl.

He felt responsible; he should have seen this coming. But the terrorists were smart, they'd used their own worry about Tony to keep them off their game,- they were still using that worry to keep the team from seeing what was under their noses.

Tony was dangerous right now and had to be treated as such, as hard as it was to think that way. He was a very real danger to himself and the people around him. Gibbs first priority was to get Tony secured, and then he'd worry about the rest.

The doctor held up a hand, "We could only give him a mild sedative because of his head wound. It would have had no affect against the hallucinogen drugs of the type that was in his system. He's going to be able to function for a while yet; I really can't give you an idea if it's hours or more. When he crashes, he's going to crash hard. But for now, he probably thinks he's invincible."

"Where's he going to go?" McGee asked. He was trying to think logically, even if logic didn't always work in Tony's case.

"Yeah," Abby chimed in. "He's dressed in one of the backless hospital gowns, that's sure to attract a certain amount of attention."

Gibbs was inclined to agree. But Tony was smart; he would find a way.

"Kate, you and I are going back to NCIS."

She nodded and began to stuff her gear back into her pack.

Gibbs continued with his instructions to the rest of his team, "We can coordinate the search for him there. McGee, you and Abby check the hospital security tapes. He had to get out of here somehow. If he's on foot I want to know, if he's somehow managed to get transportation, I need to know that."

"Gibbs," Kate's tone caught his attention immediately. All eyes focused on her as she frantically searched through her pack.

"Kate?"

"I... uh... the keys are gone."

"Keys, Agent Todd?"

"The keys to the car, Gibbs, they were on the top of my gear, they're not here now."

Gibbs scrubbed a frustrated hand through his hair. "Alright, this may actually work in our favor. Abby, we need your car..."

"Gibbs!" Abby shouted, she was nearly dancing in her excitement.

"Abby, we don't have time. What is it?"

"Gibbs, Kate's car, its NCIS', isn't it?"

He nodded, not wanting to interrupt her when she was on a roll.

"Well, they have a tracking chip in them. We can find out exactly where Tony is going."

He picked her up and squeezed her tight, "You've earned your Caf-Pow for the next week."

"Oh, but there's more, bossman," the grin she sported stretched from ear to ear. She didn't wait from him to ask, she needed to have Tony safe and sound back in his hospital bed, "I have my lap top in the car, we can uplink to a satellite and we can track him as you drive."

"That's my girl." Gibbs knew he had the best people working for him. It was times like these when they proved it to him. "Alright, you come with me and Kate. McGee, see if you can find anything helpful on those hospital tapes. And McGee," Gibbs called out as McGee turned away to carry out his instructions.

Tim looked back at Gibbs expectantly.

"Put some clothes on, you can't go running around the hospital looking like that."

McGee glanced down at his terry-cloth robe frowning uncertainly, then detoured to the bathroom to do as instructed.


"Do you really think you can save them?"

He shouldn't have been surprised when his father appeared in the passenger seat. They'd spent more time together in the last three days than they had in the last three years. Still Tony jerked the wheel hard enough at the unexpected words that the car veered into the other lane.

If it were a normal day it wouldn't have been a problem, Tony would have corrected and everything would have been fine, but it wasn't a normal day. A normal day didn't involve having your father's hallucination hounding you everywhere. A normal day didn't involve escaping from the hospital while still suffering from a concussion so his reflexes were off and he couldn't correct fast enough.

Time was suspended as he caught sight of the other car in the passenger side rear-view mirror. He could see the woman in the other car, her eyes wide, knowing she wasn't going to be able to avoid Tony's car. He imagined she would slam on her brakes, but it would do no good. They were just too close.

The car impacted Tony's vehicle, shoving into the passenger door, spinning him sideways. The air bag inflated into his face cushioning his impact with the steering wheel. Tony's world rotated. Through the side window he could see the woman staring into Tony's eyes as their cars skidded together, careening forward.

Around them other cars swerved, amidst much honking and squealing of tires, to avoid being caught in their accident. Then, with a sickening thud and a shower of glass, both cars shuddered to a halt.

For a second there was only silence and Tony sat, astonished that he was still alive. Then the second passed and he became aware of the honk of a car somewhere close that was stuck, maybe it was the other woman's car. There were shouts as people pulled to a stop and ran to offer assistance. There was a strange hiss from his own car, a plop as something liquid hit the pavement. The acrid smell of smoke and gasoline began to fill the air.

"Well, now isn't this a mess?" his father asked. He sat back in the passenger seat, untouched by the glass and the twisted metal, sipping at his drink. He might have been sitting on the veranda of their home for all the concern he had for his son's accident.

Tony wasn't surprised; his father had never shown any concern before about his life, his death should be no different.

"Oh, don't be melodramatic," his father snapped sharply in response to his unspoken thoughts. "You always did go overboard trying to get your mother and I to notice you."

"But you never did," Tony said tightly, his voice low and dangerous. He ignored those who were trying to help him out of the car. "You couldn't be bothered by me, could you?"

"Well if you'd ever showed an inkling of interest in anything worthwhile, Anthony, I might have been interested."

"I'm so sorry I wanted to live my own life." Tony didn't notice the people backing away from the car as they saw its occupant shouting at no one. "I'm so sorry I was such a disappointment."

"Yes, yes, you were. And now you're going to be a disappointment to Gibbs, too. How convenient this accident," his father waved a hand to indicate the cars and the debris and the people swarming over them. "Now you'll be relieved of the responsibility of saving your friends."

"My friends are fine," Tony said tightly, reminded of his mission to prevent terrorists from blowing up the NCIS headquarters, killing everyone inside. "My friends are back at the hospital."

"Are they?" his father turned to face him, his eyes narrowed in challenge. "Are you so stupid that you'd think they would stay there like good little boys and girls? Surely if they were such good friends they'll come looking for you?"

It was the truth. Gibbs wouldn't just stay at the hospital. He'd figure out that Tony had left the hospital and come after him.

Tony had to get to NCIS and stop the explosion before the rest of his team got there. It was bad enough to think of everyone else he knew there dying, but he couldn't bare the thought of losing his team, too.

Rescue workers had arrived and someone pulled open the door of his vehicle. The paramedic crouched down, trying to examine him.

"Are you injured, sir?" the man asked in concern taking in his bruised and bandaged face, the scrubs, the too-white skin.

"I'm fine," Tony staggered out of the car, pushing past him. He surveyed the wreckage. There was no way he was going any further in Kate's car, but there were lots of cars standing at the edges of the accident. They sat unattended as their occupants tried to help with the accident.

"Sir," the paramedic caught his arm more forcefully.

"Let me go," Tony didn't want to hurt the man but he needed to keep moving, he had to get to the NCIS and stop the disaster that was about to happen there.

He was the only one that could.


Oh, yes, to be continued...